Deduction and Deception
by Lady Artimes Blaine
Summary: In the realm of crime solving, the names of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are legendary. Very soon it will be revealed that there is not one crime solving duo but two. How will the Baker Street boys contend with the perfect team of Melody Morrison and Artimes Blaine? What secret do these women hold and why do they guard each other so fiercely? *On Hiatus*
1. Prologue: Shadows and Flames

Lady A: What?! A new Sherlock fic already?! Yeah, I know but fret not. I am still writing Two Minds, One Heart with a passion. With that being said, welcome to Deduction and Deception. This lovely little story is inspired and dedicated to my Sherlock. *winks* So without further ado, I present the prologue of Deduction and Deception. *bows*

* * *

Prologue: Shadows and Flames

* * *

Screams…screams of pain, of agony, of sorrow, and of despair. The screaming was so loud and every change in pitch or volume made her wince. She screwed her eyes shut, her hands clutching her head. She would be the one screaming soon. He was saving her for last. Why?

A part of her understood why she was last. He wanted to break her completely; to shatter her mind, her heart, and her very soul. She was the biggest threat to him, the person in which he most feared. She was the one who saw, who understood without even trying. Why?

Footsteps…he was coming. The door opened and she was blinded. The man before her was completely backlit, his form dark and menacing. The only clear feature was his eyes. They were dark green, so dark that they were almost black. He smiled at her and her stomach churned. Why?

Pain…so much pain and in so many different ways; physical, emotional, and mental. He was toying with her, playing with her, and torturing her. What did she do to deserve this? Nothing, she had done nothing. She had only been born different…unique. Why?

She cried, her own screams echoing in her ears. Her body was in agony, a never ending cycle of pain. She was so tired. Her mind was racing with so many thoughts, so many images, and so many memories that were nothing but lies. Her mind could not stop and was speeding towards its doom. Why?

Her heart was wailing, her very soul spilling forth and yet she did not yield. Her heart was cracking, but it refused to shatter. She would not give in. He wanted her to give in, to succumb to his darkness and shatter like glass. She couldn't give him what he wanted. Why?

She stared into the eyes of the man who had betrayed her, her friends, and her family. He took everything from her and yet she stayed true to her heart. She was strong and he could not break her. Why?

He stood backlit in the doorway once more, his anger raging in his eyes. He had failed to break her so he left. His departure was followed by flames as they licked at the doorway, their orange light dancing across her darkened vision. Everything was burning around her. The flames crawled their way towards her as her eyes began to water. It hurt to breathe, to think, to move. Why?

Darkness, so much darkness yet she still existed. She had been saved from the flame's embrace. She had survived where others had fallen. She made a promise to herself. She would stay true to her heart and be the light he feared. She would never be like him. Why?

She was the warrior whose heart beated with ancient ideals. Honor, nobility, valor, kindness, compassion, loyalty and love. She would let her light shine in a world of darkness. She would dispel the shadows of hatred and douse the flames of rage. Why…because she could.

* * *

Lady A: There you have it. Prologue: Shadows and Flames is complete! Was that cool or what?! This turned out way better than I thought it would. *grins* Coming Soon: Suspicious Behavior!


	2. Chapter 1: Suspicious Behavior

Lady A: Two updates in less than 24 hours?! Oh yeah, I'm good. I wrote both the prologue and Chapter One in a single day and now they are being posted in the very same day. Once again, this is for my Lock!

* * *

Chapter One: Suspicious Behavior

* * *

Within the living room of 221B Baker Street, the brilliant consultant detective, Sherlock Holmes, sat in his chair. He was wearing a plain T shirt, pajama pants, and his robe. He drummed his fingers on the arm rests, his body language indicating his extreme frustration.

Army doctor, John Watson, sat in his chair reading the newspaper, trying to ignore his sulking flat mate. After another ten minutes of the constant drumming, he sighed heavily, folded his paper, and plopped it on the table to his right. He was going to regret asking this question.

"What's wrong?" He asked already knowing the answer.

The signs were obvious and this was not going to end well. He certainly hoped the flat could survive this time. The wall still sported a smiley face carved from bullets.

"Bored." Sherlock stated flatly, not even sparing him a glance.

John scowled at him slightly.

"You just solved a case twenty minutes ago." He commented trying to keep his growing irritation in check.

"That was ages ago! When's the next one?" The detective whined bringing his feet onto the chair and curling around himself.

John inwardly rolled his eyes. He saw another series of experiments in the near future. He only hoped that his flat mate could wait long enough for the army doctor to replace their currently empty fire extinguisher.

"You could always call Lestrade. Maybe he has a case." He suggested trying to put off the inevitable.

The detective's eyes lit up and he half bolted, half leaped out of his chair and across the room. He grabbed his mobile phone and quickly dialed the detective inspector.

"Lestrade." The inspector stated answering the call, having obviously not looked at the caller ID first.

"What do you have for me?" Sherlock demanded.

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone.

"Well?" The detective snapped.

"Um…Sherlock…uh…we have everything currently sorted for right now." Lestrade answered clearly not speaking the truth.

"You're lying. Your hesitancy means you are working on a particularly trying case. The exhaustion of your tone means you are at your wit's end so I will ask again. What do you have for me?" The detective deduced.

There was another pause.

"Greg, we need you. Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were on the phone. I'll come back later..." A woman's voice said in the background.

"Hold up. Just give me a second." Lestrade answered his voice muffled, meaning he was speaking to the woman and not to the detective.

Sherlock frowned. The voice did not belong to Sergeant Donavon. This woman was soft spoken, polite, and she sounded genuinely kind.

"Who is that, Lestrade?" He asked both confused and highly irritated.

"Look Sherlock, I've got to go. We really don't need you. We've got this." The D.I. answered once again speaking into the phone.

"What are you hiding? Who's we? Lestrade?!" He demanded.

Silence was all that answered him before he heard the audible click of the call being terminated. He glared at his phone, trying to will the answers from the physically absent detective inspector.

He was going to figure out what Lestrade was keeping from him. In the mean time, he needed to find something to distract himself. He tossed the phone onto his desk before stomping off to the kitchen, his robe billowing out around him as he walked. He quickly pulled out an assortment of beakers and chemicals, lighting the burner along the way.

The army doctor groaned loudly in protest, but the consultant detective simply ignored him. Instead of focusing on his experiment, his mind turned to the puzzle that had been presented to him.

Who was that woman? What power did she hold over the detective inspector? Why was she even at the Yard? She sounded too kind to actually be working for the police. A girlfriend perhaps? He immediately dismissed the idea. She had said 'we', meaning that she was with someone else. That could mean another detective or an officer, given the balance of probability. However, Lestrade had also said 'we' in a tone belying something on a more familiar level. So who was she with and why were they there? What did they need Lestrade for? It was unlike the detective inspector to simply hang up on him without some sort of explanation.

He growled inwardly at the many gaps in his deductions. He simply didn't have enough data. He was so distracted by his inner musings that he didn't even notice when the kitchen table caught on fire.

"Christ, Sherlock!" John yelled running into the room and throwing a towel on the flames.

He patted it quickly, putting them out.

"Why didn't you use the fire extinguisher?" The detective asked.

The army doctor gave him an incredulous look before storming out of the flat and down the stairs. Sherlock frowned then shrugged, going back to his experiments.

* * *

Lady A: Tada! Another one for you! Who was the mysterious woman that was with Detective Inspector Lestrade? *giggles* Seems to be a drabble series. Hm…*shrugs* Works for me. Be on the lookout for Chapter 2: The Women of Cannon Street!


	3. Chapter 2: The Women of Cannon Street

Lady A: Hey everyone and welcome back to D&D! *scowls* No not Dungeons and Dragons. This is Deduction and Deception. *glares* Anyways, the boys will finally have their first official introduction to the girls. Let's see how that turned out, shall we?

Jim: Does that mean I will have someone new to play with it? *gives Lady A that really creepy grin of his*

Lady A: *shivers* Uh, Jim, what are you doing here?

Jim: Just came to visit a friend. Perhaps we could play a game?

Lady A: *backs away slightly*

Lock: *runs into the room and glares at Jim* Back in your cage, you pesky psychopath!

Jim: *eyes narrow* What are you doing here, Melody?

Lock: Keeping you away from my Watson. *kicks him out the door then slams it shut* Don't worry, sweetie. He won't bother you again. I'll make certain of that.

Lady A: *breathes a sigh of relief* Thanks, Lock. Back to the chapter, everyone.

* * *

Chapter Two: The Women of Cannon Street

* * *

Over the course of the next two months, there have been several more instances where Sherlock had been privy to his mystery woman's voice. He now firmly believed that she did not work in any official capacity for New Scotland Yard and she had the level of friendship in regards to Detective Inspector Lestrade.

There was, however, a slight flaw with this deduction. It was the presence of another woman's voice, also not Donovan. This one showed characteristics of an abnormally high intelligence level and had a sense of humor that was more sarcastic and sadistic than his own. He'd put it on par with his elder brother. All facts pointed to the conclusion that his mystery woman shared a very close relationship to the second woman.

He couldn't tell if that relationship was romantic or simply familial in nature. The second woman did not appear as frequently as the first one did. He was also unsure as to why he felt so irritated about the possibility of his mystery woman being romantically involved with someone. He simply brushed it aside as nothing more than his obsessive nature in regards to puzzles and mysteries.

In the last two weeks, there have been several murders of a ritualistic type nature and the detective was well aware that Lestrade was at the point of exhaustion. Sherlock had made a point to keep track of communications in and out of the Yard. As such, he was able to become apprised of a recent crime scene, barely an hour old, and he dragged John out of the flat and into a cab.

It didn't take them long to arrive at the place and they were now approaching the yellow police tape that blocked off the crime scene.

"What are you doing here, freak?" Donovan asked crossing her arms and clearly unhappy with their presence.

"I'm here to take a look." Sherlock replied unaffected by the sergeant's usual venomous tone.

"Lestrade didn't call _you_ so piss off." She responded making certain they couldn't cross.

It was an interesting choice of words and her emphasis implied that the detective inspector had called someone else to assist with the case, but who?

"May we at least say hello to Lestrade before we leave? We're here and all. I need to ask him about our upcoming pub night and he's been a little busy to answer his phone." John spoke up quickly, giving the very annoyed sergeant a disarming smile.

The detective kept his face passive, but inwardly he was smirking. John wanted to avoid another incident at the flat and had come up with a clever lie to help him do it. The army doctor was the perfect partner to solve crimes with.

Donovan's eyes narrowed as she thought it over then shook her head.

"No." She answered flatly, giving the consultant detective a pointed look.

Sherlock would have begun an argument to at least alert Lestrade to his presence, but he became very distracted as a crimson motorbike sped down the street, two riders atop, and came to a rather quick and abrupt stop just feet from the crime scene. Both riders were roughly the same height and were clearly female.

The passenger dismounted and removed her helmet. She had auburn hair down to her mid back and forest green eyes. She wore black leather gloves, a blood red leather jacket, a white long sleeved shirt, a silver belt of overlapping discs, dark blue jeans that hugged her curves nicely, and black boots. She had a beige notebook sized bag hanging on her left side, the strap on her right shoulder.

The driver of the motorbike also dismounted and removed her helmet. She had bright copper hair about two inches shorter than the auburn's and eyes of lapis lazuli. She had a slightly less curvaceous frame than her companion, but only just. She wore black leather gloves, a black leather jacket, a dark purple buttoned down blouse, black dress pants, and black boots.

Both women twisted and twirled their hair up and clipped them into semi neat buns before walking over to the barrier created by the police tape.

"Sorry we were delayed, Sal. Traffic was a bitch." The auburn apologized her tone laced with humor.

Sherlock's eyes widened marginally as he recognized her voice. How could he not? This woman was his mystery woman. He glanced towards the other red head who gave him a look that said 'If you value your manhood, you will not touch her.' She was obviously the second woman and fiercely protective of the auburn. He sent a look back that said 'I have no intention of harming her. I am simply curious.'

The red head's eyes narrowed a fraction, searching for something. She obviously found it when she turned her attention to the now smiling sergeant.

"Artimes, Melody. It's a pleasure to see you again. Please." Donovan responded looking first at the auburn then at the red head before lifting the police tape for them.

Why was the sergeant allowing them into the crime scene and not them?

"You as well, Sally." The one identified as Melody replied.

Both women ducked under the tape, the red head pausing to sniff the air around the sergeant.

"Hm, apple cinnamon this time. Wise choice." She commented smiling slightly at Donovan.

His mystery woman chuckled softly.

"Took me up on my advice, eh Sal? It suits you much better than Hawaiian coconut. I'm a green apple girl myself." Artimes commented.

The trio of women turned and began to walk away, continuing their conversation as they went.

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked his desperation for more data forcing the question out of his lips.

Melody looked back at him with a look that said 'Idiot' while the sergeant practically sneered at him. The auburn haired woman shook her head at her companions' behaviors. She turned back to the confused detective, a brilliant smile on her face.

"You're the Baker Street boys." She stated then paused to gesture to herself and Melody, "We're the Cannon Street girls."

* * *

Lady A: Tada! Chapter 2 is over! Be on the lookout for Chapter 3: Baker vs. Cannon!


	4. Chapter 3: Baker vs Cannon

Lady A: Yo. Since I'm up at this God forsaken hour of 9:30 am, I decided to post this. *hisses as the sun hits her eyes* Sunlight is evil.

Lock: *nods in agreement* Thank the stars for the invention of curtains.

Lady A: I wrote this chapter last night while trying to stay awake to actually write it. XD It may not be as good as the others. :(

Lock: *glares at her Watson* Nonsense. Everything chapter you do is brilliant and I will not hear otherwise. Do you understand me? *give her a pointed look*

Lady A: *smiles tiredly at her best mate* Aye aye, captain. *mock salutes*

Lock: *crosses her arms* Read the chapter while I make Watson some tea.

Lady A: Tea, Earl Grey, hot. *smirking*

Lock: Star Trek junkie.

Lady A: Doctor Who junkie.

Lady A and Lock: Sherlock junkie!

Lady A: No seriously, onto the chapter. This may take a while.

* * *

Chapter Three: Baker vs. Cannon

* * *

"Artz." Melody called drawing the auburn's attention, "We have a case to solve."

Artimes beamed at her friend before her expression became thoughtful. She looked back at Sherlock and John, a question in her eyes. Sherlock immediately understood what she wanted. His mystery woman wanted John and himself to join her and Melody. He raised the police tape, allowing both men to pass underneath.

The auburn haired woman smiled and skipped over to her copper haired friend. Donovan was about to say something when Anderson walked out of the abandoned house where the body had been discovered.

"Ah ladies. Please be so kind and leave my crime scene intact." He requested flashing them a smile.

Artimes giggled and smiled at the forensics expert.

"Don't worry, Philip. We'll be gentle. I promise." Artimes commented winking, earning a chuckle from Melody, Anderson, and John.

Unfortunately, that's when the forensics expert noticed the consultant detective and the army doctor. Both he and Donovan glared at them. Sherlock watched in mild fascination as Artimes and Melody silently communicated with one another with their facial expressions and body movements. He saw Melody roll her eyes before apparently giving in to whatever the auburn had requested.

"Don't worry about them, Philip. They are simply observing. If they contaminate any evidence, I'll slap them." Melody piped up, smirking.

Anderson thought about this a moment before his face morphed into one of smugness. Sergeant Donovan was also highly amused by the red head's comment and nodded her approval. Artimes threw an apologetic look over her shoulder at Sherlock, clearly apologizing for their uncouth behavior. The detective sent her small smile, telling her that he didn't mind. Her eyes softened and she smiled slightly in return.

After a few more pleasantries passed between the girls and Donovan, who was remaining outside, the group entered the building. They were soon set upon by Detective Inspector Lestrade.

"Hey girls. Sorry for calling you away from dinner." He apologized then noticed Sherlock and John standing a short distance from the girls, "Bullocks. What are you two doing here?"

"They're with us." Melody answered sliding a pair of latex gloves on, snapping the material against her wrists.

"But…" Lestrade started.

"You heard Mels. They're with us." Artimes interrupted also putting on the latex gloves, though a little less dramatically than her friend.

The D.I. looked at Artimes and she smiled softly at him, a pleading look in her eyes. He crumbled in seconds and sighed heavily.

"Where are we?" Melody asked smirking slightly at her friend's way with people before getting down to business.

"Follow me." Lestrade replied his tone resigned.

The girls grinned conspiratorially at each other before following the pouting detective inspector. Sherlock and John trailed behind, the detective wondering just who and what these women were to have such sway over the employees of New Scotland Yard. Anderson stayed behind and glared at the detective's and army doctor's backs.

* * *

Lady A: Chapter 3: Baker vs. Cannon is complete. Be on the lookout for Chapter 4: The Mysterious Artz. Also keep watch for Jim, he has somehow escaped from Lock's care and I really don't want to have a run in with him.


	5. Chapter 4: The Mysterious Artz

Lady A: Sorry for the wait. The Carmine Conundrum just sorted exploded and demanded to be written. Now without further ado, Chapter 4 of Deduction and Deception.

Jim: Did you miss me? *appearing from nowhere*

Lady A: Eep! *pepper sprays Jim* Lock! I found something of yours!

Lock: *runs into the room and growls at Jim* Thought you could escape, huh? I told you that you couldn't have her. *drags Jim away* Continue on, I'll be right back.

Lady A: *sighs in relief* I swear he is going to give me a heart attack one of these days. On with the mayhem!

* * *

Chapter Four: The Mysterious Artz

* * *

The girls entered the room first and Melody immediately got to work examining the body on the floor. Artimes stood off to the left side watching her friend work. Sherlock and John stood off to the right side and the detective began his observation of his mystery woman.

It was obvious that the copper haired one was the detective out of the two. She was very intelligent and was making similar deductions to his own, proving she was a genius with very keen observational skills. Artimes's involvement with Melody, however, did not make sense. John had his military training and his medical knowledge, both excellent assets for solving crimes. How did she fit into the equation?

He watched her as she glanced around the room, seemingly searching for something. She frowned slightly when she didn't find what she was supposedly looking for. She glanced at the back wall, her eyes narrowing slightly in concentration. He looked at the back wall himself, finding nothing worthy of noting. It was simply a wall, so why did she seem so interested in it?

She took the time to look at the other walls carefully then she returned her gaze to the back wall, her face scrunching up slightly in confusion. What was so damn important about an ordinary wall? She shook her head, doubting herself and disregarding whatever thought process she had been following.

She turned her focus back to the body on the floor, her eyes distant. She tried to keep her gaze on the female detective, but her eyes flitted between the back wall and her friend several times. Melody stopped mid deduction when she noticed Artimes fidgeting and twitching slightly in irritation. Something was clearly bothering the auburn haired woman, but what?

"Artz." Melody said standing up.

Artimes looked at her friend a moment. She shook her head and looked away towards the open doorway. Sherlock realized that she doubted whatever abilities she had and was looking for an escape. He doubted that Melody would allow her such an opportunity.

"Artz." The female detective said again, her voice soft and kind.

The auburn haired woman looked at her friend, uncertainty shining in her eyes. The red head smiled softly and nodded her head, showing her trust in the green eyed woman. Artimes looked towards the back wall again and Melody followed her gaze. The auburn walked slowly over to the wall and ran her right hand along its smooth surface, closing her eyes a moment.

Her eyes snapped open and she looked to the right side of the wall where the wallpaper was peeling slightly, her gaze determined and absolutely sure. She quickly went to the right side of the room and started pulling at the wallpaper, straining to tear it from the adhesive still holding it in place. Sherlock, before he could really stop himself, walked across the room and started pulling at the wallpaper slightly above her head, lending his assistance.

"John, get the left side." The detective ordered.

The consultant detective wasn't sure what Artimes had figured out but it was important to her. She had gone to the trouble of convincing her copper haired friend to allow them into the crime scene, so the least he could do was help her just this once to return the favor. The army doctor, along with the female detective, moved to the left side of the back wall and together they ripped off the wallpaper.

No one expected to be hit by the sudden foul stench of rotting flesh nor did they expect the clearly battered and tortured corpse of a young woman to be embedded into a small but well ventilated cubby hole. How had she known? The vents would have allowed the gases produced by decomposition to escape and not cause any deviations to the wallpaper. The smell would have been easily attributed to the body on the floor and not to the body hidden behind the wall. How could she have possibly have known? It didn't make any rational sense.

* * *

Lady A: Tada! Chapter 4: The Mysterious Artz is complete! Be on the lookout for Chapter 5: The Protector. It's going to be very interesting indeed. *grins like the Cheshire cat*


	6. Chapter 5: The Protector

Lady A: Welcome back to Deduction and Deception! I decided to split this chapter because it was running kinda long, but never fear, I will more than make up for it with the next chapter. *grins conspiratorially*

Mycroft: What have you done?

Lady A: Oh hey, Mikey.

Mycroft: *levels a glare at her* My name is Mycroft. Please try to struggle to the end rather than making up such absurd variations.

Lady A: You're lucky my Lock is still asleep or she would so smack you, _Mikey_. As for what will happen in the next chapter, I will tell you its title and leave you to your deductions. The title is Chapter 6: Prepared To Do Anything.

Mycroft: *continues glaring but Lady A just ignores him*

Lady A: On with the show!

* * *

Chapter Five: The Protector

* * *

Artimes stared at the cubby hole in the wall, her body becoming completely still. Her pupils shrunk to the size of the smallest pin points and her skin paled considerably. Melody, who had originally begun to examine the new corpse, glanced over at her friend. Seeing her friend's reaction, panic and fear shot through her body like ice.

She crossed the room, forgetting everything around her; the bodies, the case, and the men still in the room. None of it mattered, only her Artz mattered. Melody half dragged, half carried her nearly catatonic friend from the room and out of the house, both John and Greg following closely behind. Sherlock remained inside and continued investigating the newly discovered corpse.

Once outside, Artimes fell to her knees and did not move. She stared blankly at nothing, her eyes unseeing and her mind trapped within. Melody was currently kneeling on the right side of her unresponsive friend, glaring venom soaked daggers at the army doctor that had tried to approach her Artz mere moments ago. Lestrade stood by the house, allowing the female detective to handle the situation. He knew better than to mess with her when she was like this. To do so, would mean certain death and he rather liked being able to breathe.

"Trust me, I'm a doctor." John pleaded his eyes conveying his desire to help and his kind heart.

Melody was torn; the conflict raged in her eyes and her mind was a jumble of thoughts and feelings. Under normal circumstances, she would allow no one close to her best friend during one of her episodes. She knew that any touch besides hers or Greg's would compound the effect and make the episode last longer, but she had a very strange feeling about the military man.

He reminded her of her Artz; kind, compassionate, determined, and loyal to a fault. If she did nothing and allowed the episode to run its course, Artimes would be released anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour, given the severity of the catalyst. If she allowed the army doctor to examine her, to touch her, it could hurt her friend more, but it could also have the opposite effect and actually help her come out of it faster.

She looked into his eyes and made her decision; she would allow him to try, but she gave a very stern look as a warning. He gave a curt nod of his head in understanding. He knelt down in front of Artimes, but did not touch her. Instead, he pulled out a pen light and shined it in her friend's eyes. He noted the absence of a reaction and he frowned. He then pocketed the pen light.

Sally and Philip looked on worriedly, feeling completely useless as usual. They had been present four other times when the auburn haired woman had had an episode. The pair were highly annoying and Melody barely tolerated Sally. Philip was alright, but he could do so much better than the sergeant. She was, however, still pissed at them. They had tried to convince Lestrade to keep Artimes from participating in cases. The inspector had told them, in not very polite terms, to back off and shut up. The dark blond D.I. knew what caused her friend's episodes.

Lestrade had been a younger officer on the task force that had rescued Artimes after the event. He was the only one who could touch her without her screaming and thrashing about. He carried her broken body through the flames and smoke and out into the clear night. Greg said she had smiled when she saw the stars and the inspector never left her alone after that. He visited her every day in the hospital, helped her with the physical rehabilitation, and after she had been released from the hospital, he had shared his home with her until she had decided to move in with Melody.

Greg had been the reason that Melody had met her Artz. Artimes was very unique and had a mind that moved faster than the world's most advanced super computer. She had a very special gift that allowed her to see everything including emotions. Artimes called it instinct, but in actuality, it was a highly advanced form of deductive and inductive reasoning mixed together. She could not do the deductions that Melody and Sherlock could, and it was her own humanity that prevented her from utilizing her abilities to the fullest.

There was, however, a drawback. The auburn haired woman could remember everything with absolutely perfect clarity which included the event that still haunted her. When they first met, Artimes had been helping Lestrade on a case when she suddenly froze, catching the attention of the female detective while she was in the middle of a deduction. She had watched the inspector ignore everything she was saying about the case and focus entirely on Artimes.

She had been extremely annoyed but waited patiently for the drama to pass, but it didn't. Finally, she dragged the woman from the room with the intent of slapping her for interrupting the case and within moments, Artimes had returned to herself. The sheer pain and agony in the woman's eyes broke something inside of Melody that day and she had made a vow to protect Artimes from everyone and everything, to never see the woman ever look like that again.

The female detective was drawn out of her inner musings when John placed two fingers at the base of Artz's crown, the top of the neck right below the skull, and placed his thumbs against the pressure point on either side of the neck. He applied a small pressure to all three areas and Artimes's eyes dilated, returning to normal. She took a shuddering breath and fell into the army doctor's chest, his arms wrapping around her small form to keep her steady.

"What did…how did…" Artimes asked trying to comprehend what happened.

Relief flooded Melody's system at the sound of her friend's voice and her respect for the military man grew to new heights. His eyes connected with hers over the top of Artimes's head. She saw the question burning in his eyes. He wanted to make certain that the female detective could remember the technique he had just performed. She nodded quickly, a small smile on her face.

"Panic induced terror; it forces the mind to recall memories of a past event based on the trigger that was used. It could be anything; a face, a noise, an odd placement, an unusual smell, even feelings like shock or surprise. The technique I used forces the brain to reset itself and resume normal functions." John explained rubbing her back when the auburn woman began to shiver.

"Thank you." Artimes whispered in gratitude.

It was a feeling shared by both women.

* * *

Lady A: Chapter 5: The Protector is over! You learned a little bit about Melody and Artimes in this chapter and even a little about Lestrade. Coming Soon: Chapter 6: Prepared To Do Anything.


	7. Chapter 6: Prepared To Do Anything

Lady A: And here we are again. Welcome to Chapter 6 of Deduction and Deception! This is, by far, one of my most favorite chapters. You'll see why.

Lock: Is it time?! *eyes full of hope*

Lady A: *nods* Yep.

Lock: *grins evilly* This is going to be good. *chuckles darkly*

Lady A: *giggles at her best mate's antics* On with the show!

* * *

Chapter Six: Prepared to Do Anything

* * *

Artimes looked up at her best mate.

"What are you doing, Mels?" She asked quietly.

Melody frowned, not understanding what she was talking about. The auburn haired woman smiled softly at her confused friend.

"Impress me." Artimes stated a challenge in her eyes.

The female detective's eyes widened slightly as she understood what her friend wanted. She wanted her to solve two completely different murders simultaneously, but that would require her to leave her best mate in the care of the army doctor. She looked towards the house then back at her friend. Artimes nodded her head and Melody stood up. The detective glanced at the military man.

"I'll look after her. She won't leave my side." John promised catching on to what was happening.

Melody nodded her consent and approval. She walked back into the abandoned house with Greg following closely behind. She reentered the room and began the investigation anew. Sherlock watched her for several minutes, his hands behind his back.

"You need to find a more adequate partner. Artimes lacks the necessary mental fortitude to actually be helpful on cases." He stated.

Melody froze at his statement. He dared to speak of her Artz in such a manner?! Who the hell did he think he was?! He knew nothing of the pain, the torment, the agony her Artz had endured for almost a year. He had no right to talk about her like he knew her.

A cold fury swept through her veins as she closed the distance between them. Melody raised her left hand and slapped him with enough force to make him stagger back from the impact and attempt to regain his footing.

"One more word out of you, Sherlock Holmes, and Lestrade will be arresting me for murder." She stated her voice cold, glacial, and held the promise of an agonizing death should he speak again.

The shock of being slapped was evident on the consultant detective's face and Melody had enough room in her mind to think that it was highly likely that he had never been struck in such a way. She turned on her heel, removed the latex gloves from her hands, and walked across the room to the open doorway where Lestrade was standing.

"Send everything to Cannon Street." She instructed the detective inspector before exiting the room.

"Smooth, Sherlock, real smooth. Now get the hell out, because you don't know the first damn thing about Artimes and if you ever say anything like that again, I'll fucking arrest you." Lestrade threatened more than a little pissed off.

Melody smirked slightly. She always did like Greg. He was a good man and a good friend.

* * *

After Melody had gone back inside, Artimes and John talked a bit, though not about what happened to her or why it did.

"You're a good man, Dr. Watson; brave, loyal, and kind. You would do anything for those you cared for, no matter the consequences and you enjoy the thrill of the chase and the danger it brings. In fact, you're abnormally attracted to danger like a moth to a flame." Artimes stated.

"How do you know all that?" John asked surprised.

"Um…" She started looking for a way to not explain her really weird intuition.

A very audible smack was heard from within the abandoned house, making the auburn haired woman wince slightly. She kind of figured that would happen. Like Mels, Sherlock was a work oriented kind of person and disliked anyone or anything that distracted him from a case. He probably said something negative about her which was pretty much the only way to make her copper haired friend angry enough to strike him.

"What was that?" John asked slightly worried.

"That was Mels." Artimes answered flatly.

As if on cue, the copper haired woman walked out of the abandoned house, her eyes seething with rage. Yep, Sherlock had insulted Melody's flat mate. Artimes walked up to her friend and embraced her. Slowly, the female detective's eyes calmed and the tension in her body melted away. She hugged the auburn a moment before taking her hand and practically dragging her towards their motorbike.

"Bye, Dr. Watson." Artimes called waving.

"John." He corrected waving back.

"Good night, John." She replied smiling as she and Mels mounted the bike.

They drove off as Sherlock stepped out of the house with a rather dark red hand print on his right cheek. It was already starting to turn purple in some areas.

"What the hell happened?" John asked examining the fast forming bruise.

"She's so Scottish." The detective commented swatting away the doctor's hands and walking off.

* * *

Lady A: *giggles like mad* Yes, I did it. Come on, you had to see that coming, right?

Lock: I did and it was quite amusing to read. *sips her tea*

Lady A: *giggles some more* Be on the lookout for Chapter 7: Unexpected Kindness!

Lock: Leave a review and she just might do something rather entertaining with Mycroft. *smirks*

Mycroft: She wouldn't dare.

Lady A: *raises an eyebrow* Remember the last time you dared me not to do something?

Mycroft: *pales*

Lock: *snickers* Somebody's in trouble. *sips her tea*


	8. Chapter 7: Unexpected Kindness

Lady A: *sighs heavily* Apologies, but this might not turn out as well as usual. My Lock has been busy trying to be civil with people for an extended amount of time and is contemplating a multiple homicide. However, I have put together the next two chapters for my Lock, in hopes of quelling her inner sociopath.

Melody: Being civil is boring.

Sherlock: *nods in agreement*

Artimes: Hey now, no need to be hostile, you two.

Sherlock: *glares at the auburn haired woman*

Melody: *smacks Sherlock in the back of the head*

John: *sighs in exasperation*

Jim: I would be more than happy to offer my services to your precious Lock.

Lady A: *tasers Jim into unconsciousness then mumbles about stupid psychopaths*

* * *

Chapter Seven: Unexpected Kindness

* * *

Artimes sifted through the reports, crime scene photos, and investigation notes, making a large stack. Once certain she had everything, she made copies of all the papers. She even took the time to write the notes into a more readable format. The process took the better part of the day, but it gave her something to do while Melody was down at the Yard or racing about the streets of London trying to solve two cases at once.

She completed her work late in the afternoon and packed everything into a cardboard box. She then grabbed her things, tucked the box under her arm and left the flat. She hailed a cab and told the cabbie the address.

"221 Baker Street please." She stated smiling warmly at the man.

She had decided last night to take everything for the case over to Baker Street. She knew her best mate would not approve of her kindness after what had transpired at the crime scene, but it was in Artimes's nature to help others; particularly those who thought that they did not need help or even deserved it in the first place. What her flat mate didn't know wouldn't hurt her and besides she would just tell Mels later when the cases were solved anyways.

She was absolutely sure that the consultant detective was driving his flat mate, Doctor Watson, insane from his boredom. He was work oriented and having a case to solve would help immensely. She decided to be the goddess of mercy for John and provide the detective with the case he so desperately craved.

There was something different about Sherlock Holmes. She had felt it when they first met. He reminded her a lot of Melody when they had first met so long ago and yet there was something that was entirely different. She frowned slightly. She hadn't been able to get a proper fix on him like she had with John, but she was certain that a second exposure to the moody detective would clear up the static.

Still, she was excited to see him again. He made her almost giddy and ignited her curiosity. If she hadn't been so distracted when they were at the crime scene, she would have been trying to pick apart his brain and discover how he truly saw the world. Didn't help matters that he was absolutely gorgeous and had the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going for him. He was cold, that was a given, but there was something more to him and she intended to find out what made him so unique.

She arrived at her destination, paid and thanked the cabbie, and exited the cab with the case box under her arm. She walked up to the door and knocked. She was soon greeted by a somewhat elderly woman with a kind face and loving eyes. This woman was Mrs. Hudson, landlady of 221 Baker Street, but she was also a motherly figure for the Baker Street boys. She worried for them and cared for them as if they were her own children. It made her miss her own mother, but she pushed that thought to the side.

"Hello dear, can I help you?" The woman asked warmly.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson. My name is Artimes and I'm a friend of Inspector Lestrade's. Would it be alright if I visited Mr. Holmes for a few moments?" The auburn woman asked politely.

"I don't know, dear. He's in one of his moods today and he has such an awful bruise on his face. He won't even tell me what happened." Mrs. Hudson answered slightly worried.

"He said something he shouldn't have said in front of my flat mate and that was the end result. I do, however, have something that might brighten his day and tantalize his mind for a few hours." Artimes replied smiling as she tapped the box under her arm with her left hand.

The elderly woman's eyes lit up and she ushered the young woman inside. She then excused herself and told the auburn woman to head straight up the stairs. Artimes walked up the stairs, her stomach a flutter of butterflies, and tapped on the open door.

* * *

Sherlock's head snapped up at the slight rapping on the door. His eyes honed in on his surprise visitor. He was a little shocked to see his mystery woman, Artimes, standing in the open doorway with a box tucked under her right arm. What was she doing here? Did that woman send her? Why was she smiling at him?

"May I come in, Mr. Holmes?" She asked politely.

"Why are you here?" He snapped.

She didn't even flinch. In fact, her smile grew more pronounced and the look in her eyes was making him uncomfortable.

"Sherlock." John said barely glancing at the irate detective and sending a welcoming gesture to the young woman.

She walked into the flat and set the box down on the table in front of the couch. He tried to deduce her but she seemed to have some sort of built in filter and he could only tell minor details about her like she drank tea and had affinity for long scarves and the color red seemed to be her favorite color if the scarf was anything to go by.

"I figured you might be bored so I brought you copies of the case files, crime scene photos, and the investigation reports." She answered a knowing look in her eyes.

Sherlock was genuinely surprised by her kind generosity and it made him suspicious of her motives. His eyes narrowed, causing the muscles in his face to protest from where his jaw had clenched. He rose to his feet, walked across the room, flipped open the box, and quickly scanned through the contents. She was telling the truth and everything was neatly organized for fast retrieval and perusal. She had put a great deal of effort into this. The question was why. Why do all this? What purpose did it serve?

"What is your purpose in cases? How are you useful to Melody?" Sherlock asked his tone cold and demanding.

John sent him a warning look but he simply ignored the army doctor. She smiled softly at the detective, her eyes filled with warmth. It made him feel hot inside and she had been entirely unfazed by his coldness. What is she? Why did she affect him so much? She glanced over at John, who sent her a kind smile. She looked between the two of them, apparently thinking over her response.

"I'm her Watson." She stated simply.

* * *

Lady A: Chapter 7: Unexpected Kindness is complete. Be on the lookout for Chapter 8: Pursuit of Truth. Oh and try not to kill me when you read the next chapter. I swear it is a necessary evil and things will get better…I hope. *chuckles nervously*


	9. Chapter 8: Pursuit of Truth

Lady A: And here we are again. This chapter is a bit difficult to do but I must do it if the story is going to progress. *sighs heavily* Just go read it for yourselves. You'll see what I mean.

* * *

Chapter Eight: Pursuit of Truth

* * *

The detective's eyes narrowed at her simplistic answer.

"What does that mean?" Sherlock demanded very annoyed.

She took a step back, her eyes uncertain.

"Um…" Artimes started who was at a loss for words.

"Well?" He snapped.

John was full blown glaring at him and looked to be two seconds shy of getting out of his chair to defend the woman. She, on the other hand, looked to be struggling internally.

"You don't want me to answer that. Lest more be revealed than you intend or perhaps are not yet ready to accept." She answered a warning in her tone.

She dared to threaten him in his own flat?! What was she hiding?

"Tell me, right now. What are you? Who are you?" He demanded taking a step forward.

She took a few more steps back.

"I am Melody's Watson. Take it at that. Do not delve any deeper. Please…not for my sake, but for yours." She pleaded her eyes practically begging him to not push this any farther.

He was not one to back down from anything. He rose to every challenge and conquered them all. She would be no different. He grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from retreating further towards the door. John remained silent, but had risen from his chair and stood ready to stop the detective if he had to.

"Tell me." Sherlock ordered his tone as hard as stone, leaving no room for argument.

Her eyes dilated slightly and something shifted in their forest green depths.

"Loneliness, such a lonely little boy. Lonelier then and lonelier now. No one understands, no one sees. You hide it so well. Your heart is crying, your very soul weeping in despair. Pushed aside because no one could accept that you were special, that you were gifted. Such amazing and wonderful gifts that could change the very soul of the world.

For so long you have buried your feelings, allowed no one entrance into your heart for fear of pain's return. But there is hope, a hope you have found within your army doctor. Every moment you spend with him, the more you let him in and the more human you become. His presence alone reveals the lie you have cloaked yourself in for what it really is, a shield. A shield to protect the broken and battered heart of a lonely little boy crying out for someone to be there, just to be there." She answered her eyes returning to normal as they filled with tears.

Sherlock's hands dropped to his sides, staring at her in shock. She backed up a few more steps then bolted out of the room and down the stairs. When the door slammed, he was broken out of his shock induced stagnation and he raced after her, leaving a very confused John Watson in the flat.

He caught up to her as she ran into an alleyway and he slammed her against a wall. He had no words to describe the onslaught of emotions he was feeling and his mind was completely jumbled; rage, sorrow, fury, despair, pain, loneliness, hope, fear, relief, joy then back to rage. She stared up a him, her eyes conveying a heartfelt apology, but he couldn't accept it. He was too emotionally raw and exposed inside. He was mentally unbalanced and could not think rationally about this situation. He threw her to the ground, his eyes blazing in anger.

"Stay away from me and from John. You are no longer welcome at Baker Street." He bit out, his hands clenched by his sides.

She bowed her head in understanding and both pain and guilt lanced through him like an electrified knife. He shoved the feeling aside and turned on his heel, leaving her alone. He heard her as she quietly began to sob as he walked further and further away. Guilt and anger clashed against one another equally; angry that she had dared to look so deeply into his soul and guilt because his heart recognized a kindred spirit.

She was gifted beyond measure and like him, there was no one who could truly understand. He fought down his emotions until they were back under his control. His face was calm as he entered Baker Street, but the pain in his heart refused to wane. He had to forget about her, about what she said, and how she had warmed him on the inside with her smile. Yes, he needed to forget his mystery woman and all the feelings she stirred up within him.

* * *

Lady A: *sniffles* There you go. Chapter 8 is done. Ouch. This hurt to type. *rubs her eyes* Coming Soon: Chapter 9: Piss Off. I swear I have a chapter titled this in all of my stories at some point or another or will have at some point in the future.


	10. Chapter 9: Piss Off

Lady A: Welcome back to Deduction and Deception! This chapter is for all those who wondered what would happen in a particular situation if the person had chosen not to do what was expected of them. *giggles* I have no doubt that some of you already know what is about to happen, but very soon things are going to get downright crazy then a little comical then very sad then awkward then shocking then all nicey nice and not all in the same chapter, more like over the next few chapters so yeah bunches and bunches of craziness. *giggles profusely*

Jim: She's lost it.

Sherlock: I believe that in this case, she must have it to begin with in order to lose it. Seeing how this is not the case, this is normal.

Artimes: What is your definition of normal?

Sherlock: *glares at her* Go away!

Melody: Back off, cheekbones.

John: Are we really going to do this now?

Mycroft: I do believe that there is a chapter to get to.

Artimes: You would be in a hurry, wouldn't you, Myke?

Mycroft: *glares at the auburn*

Melody: *grabs Mycroft's umbrella and whacks him in the head with it* Stay away from my Artz! *continues beating the crap out of him with his own umbrella*

Lady A: And on that bombshell, on with the show! *shakes her head at the cast* They've lost it.

* * *

Chapter Nine: Piss Off

* * *

Artimes had stayed on the ground for hours, crying at the mess she had made. It was after nightfall when she started wandering about the streets of London. She wasn't exactly dressed for an evening out in the city. The cold air pressed upon her and she shivered, her arms wrapping around her making her look vulnerable and easily breakable. Internally, she was numb, her heart constricting in sorrow and pain.

Why had she given in? She had never done that before…not even against _him_, the man whose eyes would change from dark green to brown depending on what sadistic and pleasurable activity he had concocted to torture her with next. She shook her head of those thoughts. She had worked very hard for the level of control she now possessed and her episodes happened less frequently than before.

She really felt sorry for Greg those first few years. Everything around her would trigger an episode or make her have night terrors. She had woken him up quite frequently by screaming in terror in the middle of the night. Greg was a good man and hadn't deserved the secondary torture she was enduring from her own weak mind recalling the memories of those times.

Why did she give in so easily to the persistent consultant detective, where that madman had failed? Why did her heart cry out at the thought that he hated her now? Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut? Why couldn't she stop herself from hurting him?

Her family and few friends from before the event hated it when she would look into their souls and bring their weaknesses and frailties into the light. She loved her family and friends dearly and missed them terribly, but she knew that she had broken each one of them with her instinctual gift. There was no one who could understand back then…except for the man she had once loved and he was the very same man who had betrayed her and tried to break her.

In truth, Sherlock reminded her a little of the man she once called friend, lover, and protector. He hadn't shunned her like everyone else and he hadn't even blinked when she had used her gift on him. Sherlock, on the other hand, was entirely different. With that bastard, there had always been a great darkness, one she thought she could erase, but with Sherlock, there was kindness and gentleness. Sherlock Holmes had a heart of gold, a heart that cared so much that it willingly shut down so he could solve a case and get justice for another soul who was lost to the darkness.

Why couldn't she have saved Sherlock from herself? Seeing what he hid inside, she wanted to protect him but also to be there for him. She broke him and there was no going back. He would never accept her into his life after what she did. She wanted to fix things but she didn't know how...but she was going to try, no matter how much it hurt her in the process. She may have given in to his demand for answers, but she refused to give up on him. She believed in Sherlock Holmes…now if only she could believe in herself.

A phone rang in the small café to her left as she passed but she ignored it. She continued walking down the sidewalk when another phone rang in the pawn shop she was passing. She ignored that one as well, but she had a funny feeling that this was not going to end well. Finally, she was about to walk past a public phone booth and it rang too. She stopped and sighed with exasperation. The phone continued to ring and it became obvious that she was not going to get any peace and quiet until she answered the bloody thing.

She opened the phone booth and stepped inside, closing the door behind her to block the chill. She picked up the phone and placed it to her ear.

"This had better be bloody important because I do not have time for such ridiculous games." She snapped her tone hostile from her still turbulent heart.

"See the camera to your left?" The caller questioned.

She glanced towards said camera and watched it turn away from her so that it wasn't looking at her anymore. The caller repeated the process and she watched in a bored manner as two other cameras were also repositioned.

"Get in the car, Miss Blaine." He ordered.

"Go to hell." She replied curtly, clearly unimpressed by his overly dramatic antics.

"So brave, you are. Bravery, by far, is the kindest word for stupidity, wouldn't you agree?" The caller commented his tone smug and held the air of superiority and arrogance.

He was such a pompous ass. Did he really believe that she could be frightened so easily?

"You're the stupid one if you actually believed that I would succumb to your demands by using such lame attempts at intimidation. You need significantly bigger balls or perhaps to a grow a set in the first place because your little scare tactics hold no power over me. So in the words of my generation…Piss off!" She countered slamming the phone back into its cradle.

She exited the booth as a black car pulled up on her right side. The driver got out and grabbed her right arm, no doubt with the intention of throwing her in the car by force. She struggled against him while she shook loose the can of pepper spray she had hidden in her jacket sleeve. It dropped into her hand and she pepper sprayed the poor man in the face. It had the desired effect and he released her to clutch his face. She bolted down the street but she soon heard the car giving chase. Bloody hell, who did she piss off this time? Open mouth, insert foot.

She tried dogging in and out of alleyways and small passage ways, but eventually she was cornered. Before she could even turn around to spray him again, he grabbed her from behind and lifted her off her feet. In her struggles she dropped the can of pepper spray, but that didn't mean she was useless. She brought her foot back and hit him dangerously close to his groin. He grunted in pain but held on firmly to her struggling form. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite strong enough to break free from his grasp completely.

He finally got her close enough to the car to throw her none too gently into the back seat and slammed the door in her face. She growled loudly when she heard the door locking itself. Damn, Mels was going to be so pissed at her for this. She finally took notice of the other individual in the car. The woman had dark hair, was wearing a dark dress, and was staring intently at her mobile phone. She didn't speak, she didn't look up from her phone, and made no move to acknowledge the auburn's presence in the vehicle.

Artimes huffed slightly when she figured out what held the dark haired woman's attention so strongly…it was Tetris. She fastened her seatbelt and took advantage of her companion's distracted state to pull out her mobile from her right pocket and secretly shoot off a text to Mels to inform her flat mate of her current predicament.

'Some jackass using public phones for lame fear tactics has just kidnapped me and I'm being driven to God's knows where.'

Mels responded quickly.

'It's Mycroft. I'm coming to get you.'

Mycroft Holmes was Sherlock's elder brother and was, in a sense, the British government. What the hell was he thinking? He and Melody had a long history of avoiding each other and kidnapping her was a very bad idea on his part. Mels was so going to murder him and she'd have a front row seat to the carnage. She hoped that she wouldn't get any blood on her bright red scarf; it was her tribute to Tom Baker who played The Doctor. Blood was so hard to get out of things. She sighed heavily and slumped back into the seat. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Lady A: Chapter 9: Piss Off is complete! Coming Soon: Chapter 10: Eyes of a Madman. The next chapter will hold Artimes's introduction to the infamous elder Holmes and will reveal more of what happened to her during the event, so stay tuned because you don't want to miss a thing!


	11. Chapter 10: Eyes of a Madman

Lady A: Welcome back to Deduction and Deception! Before we go much further, I am going to respond to a review left by a guest named French Invasion, Be advised that it is in French so everyone else, I apologize if you don't read French. It's only polite to respond in the same language as the review.

J'avais besoin d'un catalyseur pour quand nous arrivons à l'automne à la fin de deux séries. Je sais que Moriarty est couramment utilisé comme un rebondissement mais la substance initiale entre Sherlock et Artimes besoin de quelque chose pour les lier ensemble. Les choses vont prendre une tournure différente quand Sherlock revient du démantèlement du réseau de Moriarty et c'est là que les choses commencent vraiment à devenir intéressant parce que nous ne sommes plus l'accent sur son passé mais son avenir. Pardonnez tout mistanslations, j'utilisais le traducteur de Google. Je ne parle pas français, mais honnêtement, je pensais que ce serait plus facile si je répondais dans la même langue que vous avez posté. Merci pour votre commentaire.

Lady A: Now back to the chapter and I hope that answers your questions, French Invasion.

Melody: I'm surprised you're back at all.

Lady A: *raises an eyebrow before shrugging nonchalantly* What can I say; I had some issues getting the next chapter started.

Melody: Issues? That's putting it mildly.

Lady A: *smirks and crosses her arms* I don't stay down forever and I don't give up on my friends.

Melody: *gives her a thoughtful look* You are a strange one.

Lady A: *chuckles* You're only just now getting that?

Artimes: *giggles*

Melody: *rolls her eyes* Get on with the chapter.

Lady A: *bows dramatically* As you command.

Artimes: *falls over laughing*

* * *

Chapter Ten: Eyes of a Madman

* * *

Artimes was finally released from her vehicular prison and found herself in a dark, dank, and all around foreboding warehouse. She walked in front of the car and towards the tall man, who she assumed to be Mycroft, which was leaning heavily on his umbrella, an arrogant smirk on his face. He really thought he was better than everyone else. The auburn woman decided to knock the wind out his sails a bit, cocky bastard.

"Is this the only for you to meet a woman…kidnapping them then being all theatrical and mysterious in the hopes of coming across as impressive?" She asked her tone extremely sarcastic as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

The official's face lost its previous smirk and was replaced with a rather pointed look in her direction. She didn't even blink as she smirked at him, a challenge in her eyes.

"When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes and Melody Morrison, one tends to be discreet. Thus the reason for this place." He answered gesturing to the warehouse with his umbrella, his eyes taking on an almost evil gleam.

The official's eyes made her uncomfortable. They were not the same color as _his_ eyes, but they did cause a flash of those eyes that shifted from dark green to brown to flit across her mind's eye. She shoved the feelings that the image created aside and maintained her cool.

"What do you want?" She asked uncrossing her arms.

"I want to know what you did to incur the wrath of Sherlock Holmes. I must say that it is rather difficult to get him to lower his guard for such an emotional display and yet you seemed to have done it almost effortlessly." The elder Holmes answered.

"If you want to know the answer then I suggest you consult your little brother, Mycroft." She retorted as she ignored the knot growing in her stomach.

She had a very bad feeling about this meeting. Her instincts were telling her to run, to get out of there. She had yet to fully process everything that had happened in the last thirty six hours and her tolerance level for drama was at an all time low. At this point, she was fighting to remain in control of herself and the emotions that threatened to rip her apart. She really needed some time to think, to settle her mind and heart. She had to think rationally like Melody had taught her to do.

"I see that Miss Morrison has told you about me. That will make things more difficult considering you have, no doubt, already alerted her to your current situation. You've made quite the impression on the world's two only consulting detectives and yet I would wager that only Melody knows of your past. I wonder what Sherlock would say if I were to tell him of your romantic involvement with a certain individual who has caused him a great deal of unpleasantness recently." The official replied.

Her jaw tightened as she willed herself not to submit to the darkness threatening to overtake her. Her pulse accelerated and her hands clenched into fists. Her mind flashed back to happier times, her heart constricting painfully as she remembered that they were nothing but lies.

He had betrayed her, murdered her friends and family, left her with nothing, and then tortured her for almost a year. Deep in her heart, she wanted to save him, but she knew it was impossible. Her heart ached, the pain of those times ripping her apart as if they were still new and fresh.

Short dark hair, eyes that changed from dark green to brown depending on his mood, a brilliant mind that had fascinated her to no end…the man who was once her heart…the man who shattered her world and twisted her entire being to the point of snapping…the man who left her to burn, her body bloody and broken…the man, who to this day, still haunted her and never left her alone…James Moriarty.

* * *

Lady A: I am well aware that Moriarty is used frequently as the villain but trust me on this, there is point. It deals with the Fall and afterwards, it will no longer focus on her past but switch to focus on her future. Stick with it and you'll understand. Coming Soon: Melodious Fury! Catch you on the flip side, cats!


	12. Chapter 11: Melodious Fury

Lady A: Hello again everyone. I apologize for not updating The Carmine Conundrum but in my defense, Two Minds, One Heart was demanding my attention and now has two new chapters.

Melody: You do not make sense.

Lady A: I know.

Melody: Why?

Lady A: To be honest, I can't really answer that. As I have said in other stories, someone like me should not exist, but alas I do.

Melody: *frowns in confusion* Why do you care?

Lady A: *smiles* Because I can.

Artimes: Good answer.

Melody: Vague answer.

Artimes: It's still a good answer because who else would take that kind of abuse and still choose to be their friend?

Melody: *takes on a thoughtful look* You.

Artimes: *snorts* I'm an original character that is based on many of the personality traits that our esteemed authoress possesses.

Melody: What does that make me?

Lady A: Somewhere in between me and Lock considering I am the one writing this and what I know about Lock.

Melody: A sociopath with a heart? How absurd?

Artimes: I think she just described Sherlock and you and her Lock and possibly any other sociopath who has the fortune of meeting her. She's weird like that.

Lady A: Anyways, on with the chapter! This chapter is dedicated to Lock, my reviewers, my favoriters, and my followers. Much love to you all!

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Melodious Fury

* * *

Melody walked through the darkness of the warehouse with a stealth and grace that most assassins would be envious of, double checking her tablet to make certain that she was in the correct place. As a precautionary measure, the girls had made certain to know each other's email accounts and passwords for their individual smart phones. The female detective had wasted no time activating the GPS to locate her kidnapped friend. Mycroft would pay dearly for this little ruse.

She slowed her pace as she approached the pair, pocketing her tablet in her coat. Artimes had her back towards her and the government official was pulling out his usual flair of being dramatic. The man could be such a child with his over the top theatrics. It was time to put an end to this and reclaim what was hers. She exited the shadows and walked towards them, stopping a couple of feet behind her Artz.

"You've got some nerve, Mycroft Holmes." She stated her tone like ice.

She had never particularly cared for the government official and the two had agreed to an avoidance policy which he has so graciously decided to ignore. Therefore, she was in her rights to pretty much say or do anything to the taller male for the breach of their agreement.

"Ah Miss Morrison, how good of you to join us? We were just discussing Artimes's rather exciting visit to my younger brother today." The elder Holmes responded.

Melody didn't even blink at the news that her best mate had visited the younger Holmes. She had been absolutely certain that Artimes would extend a hand in friendship to the male detective after what the auburn did at the crime scene the previous night. Artimes followed her instincts and if they led her to Sherlock Holmes, there was nothing she could do about it.

Her lapis eyes flickered to her friend who had yet to move or even acknowledge her presence. Melody ignored the presence of the elder Holmes and moved around to face the auburn haired woman. Her breath caught in her chest as her throat constricted. Artimes was in the midst of another episode and judging from the fact that her friend was barely breathing, she'd wager that it was far worse than normal. A cold fury swept through her veins as she realized that it was Mycroft who had triggered such a violent episode.

She reigned in that fury long enough to perform the technique that Doctor Watson had utilized the previous night to end her friend's torment. The auburn's eyes dilated and she fell to her knees, unable to stand any longer. She was shivering profusely and almost seemed to be in a state of shock. The female detective took off her long overcoat and wrapped it around her flat mate before kneeling down to her level.

Melody looked into her Artz's eyes and saw that her best mate had reached her emotional limit. Any further and she would buckle under the stress. Artimes was a strong woman and never backed down when something or someone was important to her, but to see her in such a state was quite disturbing and it made her recall the first day they met.

Something must have happened with the younger Holmes because there was an unhealthy amount of guilt in the woman's forest green depths. Guilt like that could only come from Artimes willingly calling on her gift and she would never do so unless she was asked to. Melody would make certain to deal with Sherlock later, but first, she was going to teach the elder Holmes a lesson he would not soon forget.

_No one harmed what was hers._

The female detective rose to her feet slowly, the fury now free to control her actions. Before the government official could react, she closed the space between them and swung her left fist towards his face. Thanks to the metal in her gloves, her knuckles were not harmed, but the same could not be said for the official's jaw.

There was a resounding crack as her fist made contact and the taller male fell to the concrete, releasing his umbrella to clutch his now broken jaw. She picked up the umbrella and twirled it in her hand, a dark and wicked gleam in her eyes. When the official tried to sit up, she slammed her right foot into the center of his chest and pinned him to the floor.

"Let me make this absolutely clear, _Mykey_," She began using the umbrella's tip to poke at his broken jaw, the man groaning in pain, "You dare to harm what is mine ever again and you won't have time to regret it. Have a nice evening."

With one final slam of her right foot to his chest…no doubt leaving a bruise several inches deep in the shape of her boot, she snapped the umbrella over her knee until it was nothing but tiny pieces. She dropped the fragments onto his face before returning to her friend's side. She helped the auburn to her feet and together, they left elder Holmes to writhe in agony on the damp warehouse floor.

* * *

Lady A: Well I did sort of say that slapping Sherlock would be kind of mild and I did say that I would probably do something rather interesting with Mycroft. *chuckles nervously* I actually winced when I wrote the last couple of paragraphs because ouch, that had to hurt. You don't mess with Melody and what she deems as hers.

Just out of curiosity, who do you want Melody to be paired with? No, it cannot be Sherlock, that's already been decided. Well technically Melody's pairing is decided too but I'm curious as to what you would think be a nice fit for her.

Be on the lookout for Chapter 12: A Night in Cannon Street and please keep a box of tissues handy for the next chapter because…well…um…yeah. Leave a review and tell me what you thought of the chapter, what future chapters will bring, or if you want to simply rant about how crazy I am, that's fine too.


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